


Patience Is A Virtue

by fandomsandwisdom



Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M, My First Destiel Fanfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-15
Updated: 2014-07-15
Packaged: 2018-02-09 01:00:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,891
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1962987
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fandomsandwisdom/pseuds/fandomsandwisdom
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean is left listless and confused when Castiel suddenly disappears to go on a dangerous mission. Emotional turmoil gives way to clarity, and their reunion leads to one thing and another.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Patience Is A Virtue

**Author's Note:**

> *Spoilers for S9 finale*

Castiel sat in the dark, wide awake, watching Dean and Sam sleep in the ugly hotel room the three of them had been sharing for the last few days. The room was quiet except for the sound of the air conditioning unit’s rattling, but inside the angel’s head, there was a roar of voices, echoing around his skull from the angel radio. His impulsive fear warred with his fear of impulse and he ran his hands over his face. So far, he had been able to conceal this recent fear from the Winchesters, but he didn’t know how much longer he could continue.

Finally, something clicked and he made his decision. He rose and crept over to the space between the brothers’ beds, turning first to Sam. “Sam,” he whispered to the sleeping form, “if you two are ever safe, it is when you are together. I trust you to stay with your brother and look out for him, as you have always done.” Then he went to Dean.

Maybe it was a result of how long he had been on Earth. Maybe it was residual from the time he had spent as a human. Maybe it was because he had been with the Winchesters for so long, going through so much with them. Maybe it was that moment when he had let Dean leave Purgatory without him that had done it, or maybe it went back as far as when he had raised Dean from Hell. Or maybe Castiel had always been Dean’s guardian angel, whether either of them knew it or not. Castiel had trouble pinpointing the exact moment of origin, but he had nursed a peculiar tenderness for the older Winchester brother for quite some time now. He reached out and slowly, very slowly, touched Dean’s temple. “Dean…” It was unkind to disappear while he was asleep, but Castiel had never been good at goodbyes. “Dean, I’m sorry to leave you like this. But I know what you would do if I left while you were awake. I have to leave when you cannot stop me. I’m doing this for you. I will find you when I’m done. I will come back. I swear it. And when I do, I hope you will understand. I hope you will forgive me.” Castiel lingered a moment longer, listening to the hunter’s even breathing, and then turned away from the bed.

Quietly, he crossed the room, opened the door, and stepped out into the night.

 

Dean jerked awake, blinking in the glare of sunlight streaming in through the crack in the ugly paisley curtains over the window. Whitesnake’s “Here I Go Again” crackled from the radio on the nightstand. He sat up and rubbed his eyes, and the bathroom door opened to reveal Sam drying his hair with a towel.

“You’re awake,” said Sam.

Dean stretched and yawned. “Thanks for pointing that out, Captain Obvious.” He looked around. “Where’s Cas?”

“I don’t know. He was gone when I woke up.”

Dean groaned. “Would it kill him to leave a note for once?” He cracked his neck and went to the bathroom. “So what’s this case we’re looking at?” he called.

“Vamps. Possibly a nest, but it doesn’t look like a big one.” Sam sat down at the table cluttered with newspaper articles, his laptop, scribbled pages of notebook paper, and last night’s takeout.

“How many of ‘em are there?”

“Ah…” Sam consulted his notes. “Four, it looks like. Possibly five.”

“Piece of pie.” Dean dried his hands and went to make sure his gun was loaded and his knife was sharp. When he noticed the look Sam was giving him, he said, “What?”

“That’s not the way the idiom goes.”

“So what? Pie’s better than cake.” The silver bullets clicked into place and Dean held up the gun. “Are you questioning its superiority?”

Sam put his hands up in surrender. “Have it your way.”

They headed out. As Dean started the Impala, Sam sighed. “This doesn’t feel right. Working a case without knowing where Cas is?”

Dean shrugged one shoulder and pulled out of the parking lot. “Cas disappears a lot. It’s nothing new.”

Sam eyed his older brother, knowing how much it really bothered him when the angel took off without saying anything. “You don’t think we should go look for him?”

“Cas is a big boy,” Dean said firmly. “He can take care of himself.”

“So you’re not worried about him?”

“No,” Dean answered too quickly and too loudly. He cleared his throat. “He’ll be fine, wherever he is. And then he’ll come back. Cas always comes back.”

 

They worked the case quickly. Four vampires had formed a nest in a long-abandoned warehouse at the edge of the city. The Winchesters beheaded them all in record time, but not without suffering injuries of their own. Dean limped away with a nasty gash down his calf, and Sam had cuts on his arm and the beginnings of a black eye. They returned to the hotel room to find it as empty as it had been that morning.

“Don’t worry, Dean,” Sam assured him that night. “He’s been gone longer than this before.”

“Yeah, when he was being tortured by psychotic angels. And when we were in Purgatory. And that time he walked into a lake. Do you want me to go on?”

“He still came back.”

“You remember what he looked like when he came back, don’t you? Beat up, bloody, half dead sometimes. I don’t like seeing him or you that way.”

“But it’s worse when it’s him because he’s an angel.” Sam voiced what Dean was thinking.

Dean sighed. “It’s bad when it’s either of you. You guys are all the family I got left.”

“I know.”

Dean laid down on the bed and turned onto his side.

Sam spoke to Dean’s back. “He’ll be here, Dean. I know he will.”

 

Dean plunked the empty bottle down and ran a hand through his hair. The bartender took it and replaced it with a full beer, unscrewing the cap as she did so. “You look rough.”

Dean tipped the bottle to her in thanks. “Yeah. Well, a friend of mine took off a week ago and I haven’t heard anything from him since.”

“Close friend?” The bartender—Amy, according to her nametag—finished polishing a glass, put it away, and tucked a stray brunette curl behind her ear.

Dean considered the question, and then the situation. Ordinarily, he’d be flirting with this gorgeous bartender, cracking jokes and making her blush, coming across as irresistible, as he had so many times before. But right now, flirting was the last thing on his mind. All he could think of was Castiel—where he might be, what he was doing, if he was hurt. Castiel was… what? An angel who actually wasn’t a total dick? A friend? A brother? A confidant? His savior? “Uh…” He took a sip of beer. “Yeah, I think so. It’s kinda complicated.”

Amy adjusted her ponytail, nodded to the beer, and told him, “That one’s on me.”

“Thanks,” Dean said as she turned to address another customer.

He stared down into the bottle and went back to thinking about Castiel. The funny thing about drinking at times like this was that it made him sentimental. He wished Castiel were here, perched on the stool next to him. Everywhere he had gone for the past week, he had felt a hole in the space around him. He had insisted that he and Sam stay in the same hotel room so that Castiel would know where to find them, just in case the angel was incapacitated from whatever he had gone to do. Dean had gotten used to people’s absences. He still missed his dad and Bobby. He missed Lisa and Ben. He missed Ellen and Jo. But he would never get used to missing Castiel.

After a few more drinks, Dean’s mind and memory were out of his control. He started remembering things about Castiel that he hadn’t thought of before. Like the way his blue eyes caught the light when the sun went down, or the bewildered look on the angel’s face when he was confused. Dean remembered how intimidating Castiel’s wings had been when he’d first appeared before him and Bobby in that abandoned barn years ago. The first time he’d seen Castiel smile, really smile. It had been directed at him. And God, it was a beautiful smile.

That brought him up short. He reflected on it for a moment and realized… Yes. Castiel was beautiful. He was beautiful in a way different from any woman Dean had ever been with, in a way that encompassed more facets than he had known existed. There were so many lights and so many angles of beauty, so many different shades on a spectrum he was still discovering. There was more beauty in a dirty trench coat and gleaming blue eyes than in stilettos and mascara.

“Dammit, Cas, when are you coming back?” Dean muttered into his hands. He paid his tab and called it a night.

 

Sam woke to a disgusting, splattering sound at six in the morning. He leapt out of bed and found Dean vomiting into the toilet. The bathroom reeked of alcohol—more beer and shots than Dean usually drank—and Sam retreated into the bedroom. He heard the toilet flush. Dean stumbled out and collapsed back onto his bed.

“Hangover?” Sam asked quietly. Dean merely groaned in answer. “Okay, stay here and I’ll be back in a little while.” Sam pulled on his jacket and walked to the 24-hour convenience store around the corner, turning up his collar against the early morning drizzle. The weather had been gloomy since Castiel had left, or so it seemed. He paid with cash and headed back to the motel, armed with Alka-Seltzer, bottled water, doughnuts, and coffee.

He was checking his phone in case he had missed anything during the night (he hadn’t) when he bumped into someone. “Oh, sorry, sir, I didn’t—”

“Hello, Sam.”

The gravelly voice stopped him in his tracks, and he raised his eyes to a familiar face. “Cas?”

The angel nodded. Sam took in the dirty trench coat smeared with blood and Castiel’s battered appearance. “I know you have questions, but…” Castiel glanced around. “I would rather discuss this in private.” He led Sam down the alley to where his car was parked, opened the passenger door, and nodded. They climbed in and locked the doors.

“Cas, what happened to you? Where did you go?”

“About three weeks ago, I picked up chatter on the angel radio. It was about Dean.” He sighed. “Apparently, a few angels were still foolish enough to be loyal to Metatron, even though I tricked him into revealing himself. Now that Dean is not only alive but also back to being human, they are angry. Very angry. At first, it seemed not to be of consequence, so I didn’t say anything to either of you. I thought they were just trying to come to terms with what happened between Metatron and me and the events that led to Heaven being opened again. I kept listening, of course—you can’t be too careful with angels.” Sam nodded. “And I found out that… that they wanted Dean dead. Permanently dead. I heard them plotting to hunt and kill him.”

“So you went to stop them.”

“Yes.”

Sam furrowed his eyebrows. “But Dean and I can handle a few angels ourselves. You, of all people, know that.”

“I do. But there were six of these angels, and they were once elite soldiers. Not quite as powerful as the archangels, but on their way to that level. They were apprentices, understudies to Raphael, Michael, and even Lucifer himself. One of them, Gideon, was… my mentor when I was young.” Castiel fell silent for a moment, staring through the windshield at nothing. “I have always trusted your instincts, Sam, and Dean’s, but I knew that even together, the two of you would stand no chance against these six.”

“So you left without saying anything.”

“Yes.” Sam opened his mouth, but the angel cut him off. “You should know by now that I am no good at saying farewells.”

“But we could have helped you,” Sam argued.

“If they had had a chance to kill Dean, they would have, and there would be no hope of ever bringing him back in that case. Gideon would have seen to that. Not even an archangel could bring back someone they killed because they were trained to leave no loose ends. Dean would have been gone forever, and I couldn’t let that happen.”

Sam sat in quiet thought for a while. Everything the angel had said made sense so far. He didn’t like it, but it made sense.

“How is Dean?” Castiel asked tentatively, staring intently at him.

“Honestly? He’s a wreck. He’s like a lost puppy mixed with a sad homeless guy. He’s been drinking a lot since you left.”

“He always drinks a lot.” The angel’s forehead wrinkled.

“But he hardly ever gets drunk and he never gets hungover, but that’s the condition he’s in right now.” Castiel blinked in surprise. “He’ll live, but he’s miserable without you.”

Castiel looked away and swallowed. “The feeling is mutual,” he murmured. Clearing his throat, he said, “Please don’t tell him you saw me.”

“What?” Sam’s voice rose. “Why?”

“Because two angels are still out there hunting him. The six of them were all too smart to have been meeting in the same place at the same time. I haven’t found them yet, but I have a strong lead on where they are. If you tell Dean, he will insist on coming to find me, which would be suicide for him and possibly you, too. When I’ve finished with Gideon and Isaiah, I will come back to you two. To stay. But I can’t do that until Dean is no longer being threatened.”

Something dawned on Sam then. “Cas, can I ask you a question?”

“You just did.”

“Don’t do that. I’m serious.”

“Yes, you may.”

“I’m just wondering, why weren’t they worried about me? I mean, I’ve been protecting my brother for as long as I can remember. I’ve sold my soul for him and made deals with all kinds of creatures, I’ve fought beside him for practically my whole life. Why didn’t the angels think of me?”

“They did think of you. They just didn’t consider you a threat. You are strong, Sam, but you’re only human. Killing humans comes as easily to them as swatting a fly comes to you. They would obliterate you without a second thought. Dean was a threat to them… because of me.”

“Because of what you gave up to save him.”

“Yes.”

Sam digested all of this. “But with you, it’s always about Dean. I’ve done a lot and given up a normal life for him. But you’ve done everything and given up everything for him. Just for one guy. Why is it always him?”

Castiel opened his mouth, closed it, opened it again, then sighed heavily. “Dean has always been… an outlier for me. You two are the only humans to have had such an impact on me. I changed and rebelled against my brothers and sisters for you. I… I care about the two of you.”

“But you play favorites.”

Castiel closed his eyes. “I try not to, because you are both important to me. You two are like family to me. Make no mistake, Sam, it would hurt me deeply to see you killed without any chance of ever coming back.”

“But what if it were Dean?”

“To see Dean killed… That would kill me.” He opened his eyes and met Sam’s. “Please promise me,” the angel said quietly, “that you will not tell him you saw me. I will explain to him why I left and ask for his forgiveness. And I hope you will forgive me too.”

“I do, Cas. I understand why you left.”

Castiel gave him a small, brief smile of gratitude. “Dean is going to be pissed,” he said matter-of-factly.

Sam laughed. “Yeah. Yeah, he will. But he’ll forgive you. Eventually. He really misses you. He’ll just be glad you came back in one piece.” He got out of the car, carrying the plastic bag of hangover remedies with him, but before he closed the door, he leaned down to look at Castiel. “Just do us all a favor?”

The angel peered out at him. “Yes?”

“Come back in one piece.”

 

Sam sat at the table in the bunker’s living room, hunched over a newspaper and a cup of coffee. The clock on the wall informed him that it was 7:59 am. Dean had fallen asleep on the couch last night, exhausted after the long drive from Florida and multiple sleepless nights waiting for Castiel’s return, so Sam had let him be. He looked up again at the clock just as the hands clicked to the 8:00 position.

“Dammit!” The word told Sam that Dean was awake. The couch creaked as his brother shifted to a sitting position and wiped the sleep from his eyes, blinking in the light streaming in through the skylights. “Dammit,” he grumbled again, “it’s been two weeks. Where is he?”

“Dean, I’ve told you, he’ll be here—”

“If he were coming back, he’d have found us by now!” Dean jumped off the couch, and then reached for his jacket.

“Where are you going?”

“Cas has been gone for too long. He’s probably in trouble, so I’m gonna go find him and get him out of it.” He opened the front door with every intention of flinging himself out, but stopped short.

“Hello, Dean.”

Dean’s jaw dropped. Framed in the doorway, hair disheveled, tie askew, and trench coat dirty as ever, was Castiel.

“Welcome back, Cas,” said Sam, coming over to join them and clapping a hand on Dean’s shoulder.

Dean glared at him. “You don’t seem that surprised to see him, Sammy.”

“Come on in, Cas, and we can all talk about this.” Sam looked pointedly at his brother. Castiel stepped over the threshold and closed the door behind him. Dean lunged at him, but Sam held him fast, trapping his arms behind his back.

“I know you’re angry, Dean,” Castiel began, holding up his hand in what he hoped would be a calming gesture. “Please, let me explain.”

“You better explain,” Dean snarled. “Where the HELL have you been for the last two weeks, Cas?!”

“I’ve been tracking down some angels who were hunting you.”

Dean furrowed his eyebrows. “Angels were hunting me?”

“Yes. A few fools still loyal to Metatron. They were angry that you’ve returned to your original human form. They wanted to hunt you down and kill you, and no,” he added as Dean tried to interrupt, “you couldn’t have taken them on your own, not even with Sam.”

“It’s true,” Sam contributed. “Apparently they were almost as powerful as the archangels.”

“Wait, you knew?” Dean rounded on him. “You knew where Cas was?”

“Only for a couple of days. I ran into him that morning you were hungover, when I went to get food.”

“What the—and you didn’t tell me?!”

“I asked him not to,” Castiel intervened.

Dean whirled back to face him. “Why? Why not tell me where the hell you were? Just a phone call.”

“They could have traced you. I couldn’t give them the opportunity.”

“You couldn’t even say goodbye at LEAST?”

“You _know_ how I hate goodbyes!” Castiel closed his eyes and sighed, forcing himself calmer. When he spoke, his voice was even again. “I knew that if I told you, you would try to stop me. And I knew you would succeed. Because I can never say no when you ask something of me.”

Looking into Castiel’s eyes, Dean seemed to deflate. “So,” he said, more quietly now, “you did it, then? You threw them off?”

“I killed them, yes.” Castiel dropped his gaze. “It wasn’t easy. Gideon looked so… so horrified. He was the most difficult to take on, considering how well we knew each other’s techniques. He almost killed me.” He looked back at Dean. “But you’re safe from them now.”

“What about any other angels that might have a beef with Dean or, well, any of us?” Sam asked, releasing his brother.

“I haven’t picked up any chatter about others. I think, for the time being, we’re all safe.” Dean nodded and went to pour himself a cup of coffee, turning his back on the other two. “I’m sorry,” Castiel added.

Dean turned back around. “You’re sorry?”

“I’m sorry I left without saying anything. And I’m sorry I made Sam promise not to tell you.”

Dean plunked the coffee pot back on the counter and advanced on him. “Do you have any idea how worried I was when you didn’t show up? I was scared half to death, Cas.”

“I know.”

Dean stopped just inches away from him, searching his face. “Ah, c’mere.” He grabbed the angel and pulled him into a tight hug. Castiel wrapped his arms around Dean, and they held each other for a few long moments. “I’m just glad you’re okay,” Dean muttered. He leaned back a little and they simply looked at each other. “I missed you, Cas.”

“I missed you too.”

They finally released each other, and the two hunters and the angel sat down for coffee. And for the first time in a very long time—or maybe the first time ever—the bunker felt like home.

 

The day brought with it no more cases to work, so the three indulged in some much-needed and well-deserved down time. Sam set out to explore the woods around the bunker for the afternoon, leaving Dean and Castiel alone. They sat in silence on opposite ends of the couch in the living room, stealing glances at each other and fidgeting. When Dean caught the angel looking at him, he said hesitantly, “I think there are some movies around here. Do, uh, do you want to watch one?”

Castiel shrugged. “Metatron, ah, gave me his own knowledge of every book and major film mankind has ever produced. I don’t really see the point of my watching one.”

Dean rose. “Boy, are you a buzzkill.” He crossed to the closet, opened it, and began digging through a box. “It’s not enough to just _know_ about movies. When you watch them, it’s a whole experience. You see it all happen right in front of you and if it’s a really good one, you feel like you’re actually there.”

Castiel frowned thoughtfully. “I suppose that could be a good escape from reality when you need one.”

Dean pulled out a video and straightened up, then chuckled at the sight of the frowning angel.

This only deepened the angel’s thoughtful frown, blending with it curiosity. “What’s so funny?”

Dean shook his head and popped in _Star Wars Episode IV: A New Hope_. “Nothing.” The VCR whirred into life and Dean returned to the couch with the remote. He fast-forwarded through the previews and looked away from the TV to see Castiel watching him. They stared at each other for a couple of moments. “We need popcorn.” Dean paused the movie and jumped up to make some. When he sat down again, giant bowl in hand, Castiel scooted closer so he could reach the snack. They ended up sharing the middle couch cushion, sitting so close together that their legs were almost touching and balancing the bowl between them. Dean pressed the play button on the remote and the introductory “In a galaxy far, far away” text began scrolling across the TV screen.

“Hey, Cas?”

“Yes?”

“I’m glad you’re back.”

The angel smiled. “So am I.” Slowly, he closed the distance between them and rested his head on Dean’s chest. Dean stiffened. “Is there a problem?”

“No.” Dean relaxed and put his arm around Castiel. They watched the movie for a few minutes, more aware of each other than of Luke Skywalker’s exploits. “I still wish you had let me know where you were.”

“I know. And I’m sorry again. But I had to protect you.”

“I would have gone with you.”

“I know that, too. But you would have been walking right into a trap. They would have killed you and there would have been no bringing you back from that.” He snuggled closer to Dean. “I couldn’t let that happen.”

Dean sighed. “Sounds like this was the most danger you’ve been in since I’ve known you, and I wasn’t there to protect you.”

“There was nothing you could have done. If you had been there, you would not have made it out. I can’t—” The angel faltered. “I can’t imagine life without you.”

Dean tilted his head back to get a better look at him. “Yeah. You too, Cas.” Their eyes locked, and this time, there was no looking away.

“I love you, Dean.”

Amid the sounds of R2D2’s beeping and light sabers humming, Dean leaned forward and kissed him, then again, and again. The popcorn bowl fell to the floor as he pressed Castiel into the couch cushions and moved slowly on top of him, peeling the trench coat off of the angel’s shoulders. Castiel’s hands found their way under Dean’s T-shirt and crawled up his back, making his skin erupt into goosebumps. Dean undid Castiel’s belt buckle with one hand and buried the other in his hair. Castiel gasped as Dean’s lips traveled to his neck and he murmured, “I love you too, Cas.”

Layer after layer of clothing shed, slowly, carefully, draping over the back of the couch, crumpling on the floor, as the hunter and the angel exposed more and more skin to each other. At the crucial moment, when Dean was on the verge of penetration, Castiel panted, “Wait.”

“Are you serious?” Dean grumbled.

“I just”—Castiel stroked Dean’s bare buttock—“wanted to make sure you were okay with this.”

“Dammit, Cas,” Dean breathed, “quit ruining the moment.”

The angel groaned loudly as he took the hunter deep into his body. They moved together as naturally as if they had always known that everything they had ever been through would lead to this, as easily as if they had never been strangers in all of Castiel’s thousands of years of life.

 

When Sam returned just after sundown, he found popcorn scattered across the living room floor, articles of clothing strewn about, and no sign of the others’ current whereabouts. He put his hands on his hips and took in the scene, shaking his head and chuckling. “About time.” He began folding clothes and stacking them neatly in the recliner in the corner of the room, finally hanging up the trench coat by the front door. Now that he thought about it, he was unsure why Castiel was still wearing it in the middle of the summer. He shrugged it off and went to fix dinner for one; he figured it would be a long time before he saw either his brother or his friend again.

 

The next morning, Sam was in the kitchen, pouring himself some coffee when Castiel shuffled in. “Morning, Cas.” He turned to face the angel, and then broke into a grin. “Since when do you wear plaid?”

Castiel looked down at the oversized blue flannel he was wearing and frowned. “I… I suppose I wasn’t paying attention when I got dressed this morning.”

Sam cocked an eyebrow mock-innocently. “Since when do you even get _un_ dressed?”

Castiel flushed and fiddled with a button. “Well, ah…”

“Mornin’, Sammy,” came a voice from behind him. The flannel-clad angel jumped at the sound and turned an even darker red. Dean brushed close to Castiel and subtly stroked his elbow as he passed. He reached for the coffee pot, avoiding Sam’s eyes. The younger Winchester looked from one to the other, smirking. An awkward silence fell, made more so by the fact that Dean’s robe was open and Castiel was in his underwear. Finally, Sam cracked.

“Guys, come on,” he laughed. “You can tell me if you’ve taken your relationship to, ah, a whole new level.” He bent over the counter, shaking with mirth.

“Okay, fine, we had sex all night,” said Dean exasperatedly, setting down the coffee pot. He stepped over to Castiel, put an arm around his waist, and kissed his temple. “And… And I love this guy. And he loves me.” Castiel smiled shyly, still red in the face.

“Dude, I know.” Sam shook his head, grinning, and hugged them both at once.

“You know?” asked Castiel, surprised.

Sam stepped back. “I’ve always known. Ever since you hooked up with us all those years ago.” Dean and Castiel exchanged glances. “It’s always been obvious, guys.”

Dean smirked at his angel. “I guess it was just a matter of time, then. You’ve been patient.”

“Patience is a virtue,” Castiel mused, staring into the middle distance. “And as an angel, I have lived many years of being virtuous.” Dean sighed and rolled his eyes. “But whoever said patience is its own reward…” The angel shook his head and smiled at Dean. “Haha. Bullshit!”


End file.
